


Love Like Fools

by Anatui



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - No Digimon, Bisexual Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya, Childhood Trauma, Christmas Presents, Digimon OTP Advent Challenge 2019, From Lust to Love, Gay Ichijouji Ken, Ichijouji Ken Is Bad at Self-Care, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Morosexual Ichijouji Ken, Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya Is a Bi Disaster, POV First Person, Sapiosexual Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya, Snarky Ichijouji Ken, Troublemaker Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya, Wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21760900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anatui/pseuds/Anatui
Summary: FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE THIS FIC WILL NOT BE CONTINUEDAfter a series of expulsions, Motomiya Daisuke never expected to find a reason to like school when he starts at the all-boys Tamachi Academy.The moment he meets Ichijouji Ken, the cold-hearted genius who rules the school, Daisuke is entranced. The guy may be vindictive, calculating, and sometimes cruel, but he's also absolutely gorgeous—and Daisuke is certain he has a secret soft side.When he and Ichijouji remain on campus for winter break, practically alone, Daisuke concocts an elaborate plan a la the Twelve Days of Christmas to woo his enigmatic crush.
Relationships: Ichijouji Ken/Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24
Collections: 2019 Digimon OTP Advent Challenge, Daiken Discord Server





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, a few notes to get out of the way...
> 
> First, the title of the fic comes from the song "Fools" by Lauren Aquilina. [You can listen to the song here](https://youtu.be/uodUCtmCRME).
> 
> Second, there is a certain amount of OOC-ness that's required for this plot, so be aware of that going in. This is an AU fic, so characters being OOC should be expected to an extent.
> 
> Third, this is written from Daisuke's perspective. First person present tense.
> 
> And finally, this fic wound up being waaaay darker than I originally intended. And also way more focused on sex. Seriously, this thing is labeled as explicit for a reason.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and enjoy!

The headmaster, Dr. Fujita, narrows his eyes as he looks through my transcript. "I feel I should let you know now, Motomiya-san, we don't put up with this sort of behavior at Tamachi Academy," he says, turning his dark eyes on me.

I pop my gum, then tuck it back against my cheek. "Yeah, that's what my parents are counting on, Fujita-san."

His eyes narrow further.

"Sensei?" I raise an eyebrow. "Sama?"

He gives a short nod, then turns back to the paperwork. "Well, Motomiya-san, it seems we may be a good fit for you. I have a student coming round to show you the campus and direct you to your dormitory and your homeroom. In the meantime"—he nods toward the door—"have a seat outside my office. Your guide will arrive shortly."

When I collapse on one of the half dozen chairs lining the hallway outside Fujita's office, there's already another student sitting a few chairs down, though something about the way he sits with a bright green hat clutched in his hands tells me he's not here to guide me around Tamachi Academy.

I drop my bag on the tile floor beside the chair and stretch out my legs.

Tamachi Academy is the third school my parents have tried this year, and apparently, they've decided this one is the answer to their prayers. Not sure what makes it so much better than every other school, public or private, they've stuck me in, but apparently, Tamachi is the shit. Difficult, academically speaking, and the headmaster is hard as nails. Plus, according to the pamphlet my father shoved in my face yesterday, their behavioral policy is particularly strict.

Something tells me it's not as strict as they think it is, though. I should know. I've been through basically every attitude readjustment program from here to Osaka, and nothing has stuck so far.

"You new here?"

I cast a glance at the blond a couple chairs over. "Freshly enrolled. Motomiya Daisuke," I say, holding out my hand. "Third year."

He shakes my hand with a small smile. "Takaishi Takeru. I'm a third year too."

"You in trouble for something?" I raise an eyebrow as I study his form. He looks guilty, but I can't figure out what he could've done—his uniform is perfectly in place, and he doesn't strike me as the kind of person who talks back to the teacher or plays any pranks.

Takaishi winces. "Not allowed to wear hats," he says, lifting the offending green material in demonstration. "And I'm a repeat offender."

I snort. "Is that all?"

"I really like hats," he says with a shrug, amusement tugging at his voice. "But we're only allowed to wear them on the weekends and _definitely_ not during meals or classes."

I tap my foot in a steady beat against the tiles. "Okay, so inside scoop. How strict is this place, Takaishi-san?"

"Honestly?"

I nod. Firm.

"Some of the teachers are strict, but most of them are pretty lenient. But Fujita-sama…he's the one you have to watch out for. At least as far as teachers and staff go."

That wording strikes me as odd, and I lean forward, fingers clasped together between my spread legs. "And students?"

Takaishi hesitates, but then his blue eyes locate something down the hallway behind me. "Him."

I turn my head, then bolt upright at the sight.

This is an all-boys academy, but the guy walking down the hallway toward us is the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my life.

A curtain of black hair sweeps just above his shoulders, framing his angular face and glinting a soft violet when the overhead lights hit it just right. He walks with a certain steadiness I've never seen before, like he's gliding instead of taking steps. His body is lean but muscular, all smooth lines and sharp angles, and he wears the academy uniform like it was made for him. Even from a distance, his eyes are razor sharp, intelligent and calculating, assessing anything and everything that crosses his path, and his lips are a soft pink beside his porcelain-pale skin.

I swallow before managing to ask, "Okay, who the hell is that?"

Behind me, Takaishi grimaces. "He's bad news, that's who he is."

I twist back to face him. "But who is he?"

"Ichijouji Ken," he says, like the words are painful. "Third year like us. But seriously, trust me when I tell you to stay away. He doesn't make friends with anyone, and he definitely doesn't do boyfriends."

I wet my lips and turn back to watch Ichijouji's lithe form glide down the hallway toward us. "He's gorgeous."

Takaishi snorts. "Yeah, he's well aware of that fact too." He heaves a sigh, but Ichijouji is still too far away to hear us. "He's the top of our year. Has been forever. Incredibly intelligent, but since we started at Tamachi, he's never had a single friend. Most people who approach him run away crying—or at least they did first year. People stopped trying after that. Everyone's scared of him."

"How exactly does he make them cry?" I try to keep the amusement from my voice—pretty sure I'm unsuccessful.

"He's the smartest person at the academy—and I'm including the teachers and Fujita-sama. His tongue's as sharp as a damn whip."

My eyebrows shoot up, but my eyes are glued to him as he finally comes close enough to hear us. "Is it now?"

Ichijouji Ken turns at Fujita's office, right before he reaches us, and as he knocks on the door, his eyes, an intense blue-violet that could pierce anything, scan the chairs here, hovering on me longer than strictly necessary, then he turns away. He doesn't wait for an invitation before pushing the headmaster's door open and stepping inside, and I watch him the whole way.

The door closes quietly behind him, but there's a finality to it.

Damn, he's got a nice ass.

"Oh, no, no, no…"

I turn back to Takaishi, but I'm barely looking at him. "What?"

"Don't you dare take what I said as a challenge," he says, shaking his head. "Ichijouji will break you before you get even a _hint_ of an emotion out of him. He's cold at best and cruel and vindictive at worst."

I snort. "Come on. You're being melodramatic."

"He hasn't had any boyfriends while here, but he's had a few boy _toys_. He drops them the moment they get too attached—because Ichijouji doesn't do attachment or feelings or anything vaguely similar to love." Takashi sighs, resigned. "Ask literally anyone else and they'll tell you the same, Motomiya-san."

"Daisuke," I say. I've never done well with formalities.

The blond smiles. "Takeru," he returns. "Do you know which class you're in yet?"

I shake my head. "Fujita didn't give me my schedule or anything. I'm stuck waiting for someone to give me a tour."

"Well, if you're in 3C, that's my class." He hesitates, then inclines his head. "And Ichijouji's, since I know you're wondering. He's our class rep. And all the third years live in the same dorm. You'll probably room with Harada-san since his roommate left after the first month."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Couldn't handle the pressure." Takeru shrugs—apparently, that's a normal occurrence. "Anyway, I'm only a couple doors down from Harada if that's where they've stuck you. Say hi anytime."

The headmaster's door opens, and I turn immediately, eager for even a glimpse of Ichijouji.

Fujita emerges, a couple papers in his hand, and then, Ichijouji follows him out, his hands clasped behind his back. "Motomiya-san," Fujita begins—

I jump to my feet.

The headmaster blinks in surprise before continuing. "As I was saying, Motomiya Daisuke, meet Ichijouji Ken. He'll show you around campus and take you to your classroom and dormitory." Then, his chest puffs with pride as he casts a smile in Ichijouji's direction. "Ichijouji-san is the top student at the Tamachi Academy, and I hope he'll be a good influence on you."

Behind him, Ichijouji's eyes study me during Fujita's little speech, the judgmental blue-violet orbs trailing over my body inch by inch, and I feel naked, utterly stripped of my worldly goods and my dignity, under his fierce gaze.

Oh, hell, he can be whatever kind of influence on me he wants to be.

Fujita hands the papers to Ichijouji. "Make sure to show him everything, Ichijouji-san."

"Of course, Fujita-sama," he says, accepting the paperwork with a respectful bow that doesn't feel particularly genuine.

Takeru said he's the smartest person on campus, even smarter than Fujita and the teachers. Something tells me he doesn't respect Fujita and the teachers very much either.

Ichijouji nods me down the hallway he originally came from, and I grab my bag and scurry after him.

Behind us, Fujita turns his attention to Takeru, and as their voices fade in the background, I hear Fujita saying, "Takaishi-san, wearing a hat _again_ …"

I smother my laughter.

"Come along, Motomiya," Ichijouji calls, stalking ahead, providing me with a perfect view of his ass. "We have a big campus to cover this afternoon, and you're wasting my time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think. :)


	2. Chapter 2

"I hope that"—Ichijouji casts a disdainful glance at my faded bag—" _luggage_ isn't too heavy. Because this is a long tour and we go to the dorms last."

I shake my head and lift the strap higher on my shoulder. "Nah, I'm good."

He doesn't give my words any acknowledgment aside from to continue his tour. "Obviously, this is an administrative building. Most students don't come here on a regular basis, but you…" His eyes dart over my body—I'm still wearing my everyday clothes, as I only just received a couple uniforms this morning, now stuffed inside my bag. "I wouldn't be surprised if you're sent to the headmaster on a regular basis."

I bite my lip, antsy from him watching me. "How often do you see the headmaster, Ichijouji?"

He stares pointedly at me but chooses not to comment on my ignoring honorifics—he did it first. "As often as the headmaster needs me," he says coolly.

"And you never get in trouble, do you?"

He eyes me curiously as we turn a corner. "Why in the world would I get in trouble?"

I send him a smirk. "I wouldn't be surprised if Fujita couldn't even recognize the kind of trouble _you_ cause."

Ichijouji merely raises an eyebrow, then carries on. "Other offices here are finance, human resources, parental relations, the records room, admissions, and there's a small security hub near the northwest corner."

We reach the main door I came in through earlier, and he cuts toward it.

Outside, he walks fast along the sidewalk paths, his long legs taking big strides, and I have to rush to keep up with him.

"To the left, we have a few more administrative buildings," he says, not even looking in their direction as he describes the offices inside—which only makes me wonder how many times he's given this tour.

"On the right is the student center, which includes the nurse's office, student services, the ballroom, a large student lounge, and the main security office. If you have any trouble with your student ID or key card, they'll sort you out. You do have your ID already, don't you?" He looks back, then pauses when he realizes I'm a few steps behind.

"Yep." I pull it from my pocket and hold it out to show him, but he doesn't even look before he's moving on.

"Over here are the academic buildings." He points out a triad of buildings immediately in front of us, then glances down at the papers in his hand. "You're in class 3C with me," he says, "which is in the middle building. I'll show you to the classroom after we finish the main tour. We'll circle back around."

The path twists to the right, and then he points out the enormous library on the left-hand side. On the right, at the center of campus, is the main cafeteria, where students can eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner if they desire, though lunch is provided in the classrooms during the week, as per standard.

"Let's go through the cafeteria."

I follow him inside the large building and through the cafeteria, which is empty right now as classes are in session. The enormous room is filled with a couple dozen circular tables, each with eight chairs, and the north side of the building is covered by a series of buffet lines with empty wells for food.

"During meals, this place is packed," Ichijouji says, gesturing around the room with one fluid motion. "You'll be lucky to find a seat honestly."

"Where do you sit?"

He pauses, frowning in my direction before nodding toward a table at the very center. "I sit there. And I don't extend invitations for anyone to join me."

I cock an eyebrow but manage to refrain from commenting.

"Come on." Ichijouji stalks toward the main entrance. "Classes will end here in a couple minutes, so we should be able to catch Ueda-sensei before she leaves without interrupting. Your first day will be tomorrow."

He crosses back toward the academic buildings, and soon, we duck inside the middle building, and he leads the way up two flights of stairs.

"You said we're in the same class?" I call after him.

Ichijouji pauses in the middle of the second flight of stairs to study me. "Yes, we are."

"And did I hear you're the class rep?"

I catch up to him, but this time, he doesn't move on the moment I meet him. I pause on the same step as him, my arm snaking around his side to hold onto the railing, but he doesn't flinch at our close proximity.

"I am," he says, perfectly calm and cool.

Eager to see him with so short a distance, my eyes rove him from top to bottom, memorizing each line and curve and angle, and when I meet his eyes again, he looks no less perturbed than before I was obviously ogling him.

"So I guess," I say, voice low, "if I have any questions or concerns, _you're_ the one I should talk to."

"That would also be true," Ichijouji says, matter-of-fact.

"Well, something you should know about me…" I step closer, setting my other hand on the railing too, trapping him between my arms—not that he even flinches. "I'm a very curious person, and I have no problem shaking things up."

His eyes, beautiful but lethal, bore into mine. "I believe you."

"So I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other, Ichijouji."

Then, he smirks. "And I'm sure you'll enjoy looking." He turns, ready to move on, but he eyes my arm like it's some strange offending object. "To the classroom…"

I pull back and follow him the rest of the way up the stairs, memorizing the tight curves of his ass as he climbs the steps.

He pauses outside 3C, nodding me to wait beside him against the wall, and he tugs back his uniform sleeve to study the second hand on his watch. The bell rings the moment it hits a full minute, and a couple seconds later, the door to our left opens and students file into the hallway.

Ichijouji waits a couple minutes before motioning me inside the room.

The teacher, a brunette woman who can't be over thirty, wipes away marker from the dry erase board, and she smiles as Ichijouji approaches her with a quick bow. "Ah, Ichijouji-kun, I wondered when Fujita-sama would release you." Then, she spots me—I bow too. "And you have a friend."

Ichijouji purses his lips but steps aside to introduce me. "Gomen, sensei. Fujita-sama wanted me to show around our new student. Motomiya Daisuke, this is Ueda-sensei, our teacher."

"Welcome to Tamachi Academy, Motomiya-san," she says with a bright smile. "I look forward to getting to know you better. You'll be joining our class in the morning?"

"Yes, sensei."

She nods before setting down her eraser and heading toward her desk at the back of the classroom. "This seat," she says, patting a desk near the center back, "will be yours. And let me grab you a few things so you can catch up to the rest of the class. Coming in this close to finals your senior year will be strenuous."

"Trust me," I say, but my eyes focus on Ichijouji, not whatever she's doing at her desk, "I'm up for the challenge."

A few feet away, Ichijouji raises an immaculate eyebrow.

"I certainly hope so, Motomiya-san." She returns with several textbooks, a few pamphlets, and a long worksheet labeled Finals Study Sheet. "This is one of the more rigorous private schools in Tokyo. I'm sure your parents want you to receive the best education you can to get into an excellent university."

I accept the stack with an amused smile. "I'm sure my parents were more interested in getting me out of their hair."

Ueda-sensei frowns but decides better than to comment. "I'll see you bright and early in the morning. If you get lost, I'm sure Ichijouji-kun or many of the other third years can direct you to the right place."

"Arigatou." I incline my head—all I can do under the circumstances.

Ichijouji grabs a few materials from the only desk that isn't vacant, located at the front left of the classroom. Nowhere near where Ueda-sensei said I would sit unfortunately. But hey, he could've been in a different third-year class entirely.

Once he has everything, he nods toward the door. "Arigatou, sensei," he says as he leads the way out of the classroom. "Come along, Motomiya. I'll show you to your dorm room now."

*

Now that class has released, the walkway and surrounding greenspaces are filled with students, and no small amount of students watches as I shuffle after Ichijouji Ken, all of them stepping out of his way like they're scared of him.

Hmm.

I know what Takeru said, but aside from being rather standoffish, Ichijouji hasn't seemed particularly mean or scary. There's definitely something dangerous about him under the surface, but he could easily pass for a normal, harmless student, which is how I imagine most of the faculty views him.

The other students shy away from him, and they're not shy about it.

"Hurry up," he calls over his shoulder, but it's a lot harder to keep up with him while carrying all these books and papers.

There's one large dormitory building on campus, and the first, second, and third years are separated by floors. Ichijouji, not caring how many books I'm carrying right now, leads the way up the large, busy staircase to the third floor, pausing every once in a while to let me catch up partway.

He waits for me at the top landing, arms crossed over his chest, until I reach him. "That's not hurrying," he says before turning on his heels and marching down the hallway. "This way, Motomiya!"

All I can do is chase after him.

We weave around and between people, past open doors and half-naked guys, and through rowdy groups of friends, until Ichijouji finally stops at a door that remains closed.

I pause beside him.

"This is you," he says. "Your key card should work to get you inside. All you have to do is stand nearby while holding it, and the door will unlock for you. It should be unlocked now." He tries the handle, and sure enough, it turns and the door opens with a squeak.

The room is dark, but there's someone inside, working on a laptop on one of the two beds. He looks up at the light from the hallway and immediately pulls down his headphones. "What's going…Ichijouji-san?"

Ichijouji inclines his head. "Your new roommate, Harada-san." Then, he turns back to me. "Obviously, the open bed and desk are yours. Get settled in." He moves around me to leave, then remembers the papers Fujita gave him, still in his hands, and sets them atop the stack already weighing down my arms.

And he's out the door before I have a chance to say anything.

The guy on the bed—my roommate—nudges his laptop aside and rises to greet me properly. "I'm Harada Aito," he says, offering his hand.

But I drop the stack of books and papers onto the open bed and rush out the still open door.

He's already halfway down the hallway, continuing in the same direction we took to locate my room. His curtain of black hair swishes and sways with his fast maneuvers.

" _Ichijouji!_ "

The hallway quietens.

The other third years freeze.

All eyes are suddenly on me.

But Ichijouji keeps moving as if I haven't said a word, and I run after him, but he doesn't slow, even when I catch up to him.

He raises an eyebrow, finally stopping when I cut him off and block his path. "Something I can help you with, Motomiya?"

"Oh, I was just wondering where your room is." I grin. "You know, in case I need to ask my class rep a question."

The smile that crosses Ichijouji's face is pristine and lovely but absolutely terrifying. "If _someone_ managed to tell you I'm your class rep, surely that pitiful blond didn't forget to mention my reputation, Motomiya." His voice is dangerously low, and he advances a step, then a second and a third until we're almost touching, but I don't back away. "So let me be perfectly clear in case Takaishi wasn't: I have no interest in befriending you. I have no interest in helping you. I have absolutely no interest in dating you. And my position as class rep isn't some ridiculous in for you to spend time with me."

"How do you—?"

" _However_ ," he says, the word sharp and loud compared to his previous speech, "you're not half bad to look at." This time, when his eyes wander over me, there's a heat that wasn't there while he was studying and assessing me earlier, and he reaches forward to press a finger pad to my bottom lip. "If you're as good at using your mouth to cause pleasure as you are at causing irritation with your incessant talking, I might have _some_ minor use for you."

I lick my lips, catching a taste of his finger as well—his eyes narrow, but the heat is still there—and I want to taste a hell of a lot more of him than a fingertip.

Then, he blinks, and any heat is gone. "Well, Motomiya? Anything to say?" he asks, pulling his hand away. "Surely, I didn't render _you_ speechless."

I snort. "Not a chance."

"No interest then?" He gives me a final once-over. "Shame." But he shrugs, suddenly unaffected. "Until class tomorrow then."

He slips under my arm—which, to be fair, he could've done any time, so I guess he _wanted_ me to stop him.

That thought gives me pause.

And then, I act.

I twist to follow him again, but he hasn't gone far. I catch him by the waist and yank him back against me, his fucking gorgeous ass pressing right above my half-hard cock, which jumps into action at the feel of him. I lean close to his ear. "I never said I wasn't interested. I think it's a safe bet to say I am."

I jut my hips forward, rubbing my erection against his ass, and his little gasp—so quiet I almost miss it—is my reward.

"But if you think there's anything _minor_ about what my mouth will do to you, Ichijouji, you completely underestimate me." I bite my lip and take a chance, sliding the hand at his hip around and down until I trace the edge of his own cock—and god, yes, he's hard too, even if it's tucked safely down one pant leg. " _Part_ of you obviously realizes that." But as much as I may want to drag him to a bed now, I release him, stepping back and adjusting myself. "I can wait till the rest of you catches up, though. See you round, Ichijouji."

He turns, eyes narrowed in an intense glare, but I grin at him and head back to my room. He doesn't follow.

The hallway is still eerily silent, but I can tell the moment Ichijouji disappears from view—either around the corner or into his own room, I don't know—because the chatter begins immediately, though the eyes, and now whispers, follow me.

Partway back to my room, I catch sight of familiar blond hair.

"Takeru-kun!" I greet him with my usual pep.

But he closes his eyes and rubs his temple. "I warned you, I did. I'm not responsible for whatever happens to you."

I shrug my shoulders—my mood is too good to ruin. "Of course not. Why would you be?"

Takeru sighs, but his blue eyes meet mine. "Honestly, Daisuke-kun, I can't tell whether you're _in_ trouble or you _are_ trouble."

I grin. "I aim for both."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it was while writing this chapter that I realized...damn, this thing all 'bout sex. Oops?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be honest. I don't know what the hell this fic is, but I'm enjoying writing it all the same.

Halfway through my first day of class, and Ichijouji hasn't looked at me once. Not even when Ueda-sensei introduced me to the other students and I stood right at the front of the classroom. Ueda-sensei probably doesn't think a thing of it—she obviously thinks quite highly of her star pupil, Ichijouji-kun—but most of the other third years either witnessed me chasing after him down the hallway yesterday. His cold shoulder is very noticeable.

Takeru leans forward in his desk to whisper in my ear. "Damn, Motomiya-kun, I don't know what you said to Ichijouji in the hallway yesterday, but he's pissed. What the hell did you do to him?"

I give a half-shrug. "If this is him pissed, I don't see what all the fuss is about. What's everyone scared of?"

Ueda-sensei turns around and continues her lecture, and Takeru waits until we break for lunch before continuing. While most of the other students move around in their seats or push their desks closer to their friends, Ichijouji remains in his front left-hand seat alone and nibbles at a small amount of food that barely amounts to a snack while reading some book about insects.

"Honestly," Takeru continues as I twist around to look at him properly, "I've never seen him completely ignore someone before. This is unheard-of behavior." He keeps his voice low so it's drowned out by the other conversations in the room.

I raise an eyebrow. "And _that's_ scary?"

"It's new and it's Ichijouji, so yes."

"And what does he normally do to someone who 'wrongs' him?"

Takeru chuckles through a bite of his sushi, then swallows. "For now, suffice it to say, if he's nice to you, you're walking on thin ice. And if he smiles"—he shivers—"you're probably about to get your ass handed to you verbally."

"So he never actually does anything?"

"Oh, I didn't say that." He casts a glance toward the front of the classroom, where Ichijouji sits perfectly erect, all tension visible in his spine. "Let's talk about this later, though, okay? Eat dinner with me and my friends in the cafeteria."

I shrug. "Yeah, sure."

I know I shouldn't, but I can't keep my eyes from studying Ichijouji where he sits by the window. Either he's belligerently ignoring me and the rest of the class, or he's really into that insect book. Considering how vigorously he turns the pages, I assume he likes insects. A lot.

"Quick question," I say, glancing at Takeru. "What would he do if I approached him now?"

The blond's eyes widen. "That's a bad idea."

I raise an eyebrow but push up from the desk and wander around the edge of the classroom along the windows, then up toward the front of the room.

When I reach him, his body stiffens immediately, and I lean down and press my elbows to the edge of his desk. "That's not for class," I say, inclining my head toward the book under his delicate fingers. "Do you find comfort learning about your brethren?"

His eyes narrow at the book, but he doesn't look at me or say a word.

"You know, the female praying mantis eats the head of the male after they mate." I glance over his tense form. "I imagine you're something like that, Ichijouji."

He flips the page in his book, but his knuckles are white.

"Did you know that stick insects hold the record for longest-lasting sexual intercourse?" I rock on the balls of my feet, managing to keep my elbows in place. "Seventy-nine days."

Ichijouji bites his lip and finally opens his enthralling pink mouth. "If you have any interest in keeping your dick attached to your body, you will walk away from me right now." His voice is low and quiet and cold, and I doubt even the students at the nearest desks heard the words.

Undeterred, I laugh and press close to his ear to make sure no one overhears when I say, "Why? D'you want to use it as a dildo?" I pull back, giving him the space he wants, and head back toward my desk—but not before noticing the faint blush on Ichijouji's cheeks despite his intense glare.

When I drop into my seat a moment later, Takeru shakes his head. "You must have a death wish, Daisuke-kun."

But my mind is still stuck on the flushed cheeks of Ichijouji Ken, subtle though it was.

Heh.

Apparently, I _can_ get under his skin. He _does_ have emotions.

*

Several hours later, Takeru knocks on the open door of my room. Harada already left for dinner, but I opted to relax on my bed and read over the study sheet Ueda-sensei gave me yesterday. I definitely wasn't continually distracted by Ichijouji's pink cheeks or how incredibly _cute_ he looks with a blush, even a faint one, let alone how much I want to make that happen again.

"You hungry?" Takeru asks, leaning against the door frame.

I slide the paper onto my desk, make sure to grab my lanyard with my key card and ID, and follow him out into the hallway, closing the door behind me. "Let's eat."

In the cafeteria, we go through the buffet lines together, then I follow him to a circular table near the back. We pass Ichijouji's table on the way, and just like he said during his tour, he sits there alone, several half-eaten plates spread around him while he reads. He's more than halfway through that insect book now.

Takeru's table already has a few people sitting there, and he smiles at them all. "Guys, this is Motomiya Daisuke. Today's his first day, so be nice."

I recognize a few of the others as fellow third years, but one boy stands out.

"Hida Iori," he says as he offers me a short wave from the other side of the table. "No, I'm not small for my age. I'm a first year."

I crack a smile at his matter-of-fact and direct language and slide into a chair a little closer to him. "Nice to meet you."

Iori's brown eyes study me for a moment before he starts to eat his ramen again, then pauses a moment later. "So you're the one everyone's been talking about."

"Oh?"

Beside me, Takeru laughs. "I guess you wouldn't have heard all the talk. Everyone's interested to know more about the guy who had the balls to yell at and chase after Ichijouji. Do you have any idea how many third years were watching you talk to him yesterday?"

I shrug.

"Some people are saying you groped him in the middle of the hallway," Iori says, studying me.

The rest of the table watches me questioningly.

I snicker. "How exactly are we defining _grope_?"

Takeru drops his head into his hands. "Dear god, Daisuke-kun. I didn't think you were quite that stupid. If you're murdered in your sleep, we'll know why."

"Hey, he was the one who propositioned me."

Iori raises an eyebrow. "He wouldn't murder him outright," he says then. "That's not subtle enough to fit Ichijouji's MO. Motomiya here would simply disappear during the night."

Hmm.

I need intel.

"And what exactly is Ichijouji's MO?" I ask, leaning forward, hands clasped atop the table.

Takeru and Iori exchange serious looks, then glance around the cafeteria before finally properly settling into place.

"I may be a first year," Iori begins, "but the stories about Ichijouji are prevalent throughout the academy. Everyone knows to stay away from him."

"Yeah, but I don't get why." I stretch to get a good view of his table, but he's eating an apple while reading his book. "There's nothing scary about him."

Takeru shakes his head. "That's only because this is your second day on campus, Daisuke-kun. You're not the first person to take him too lightly, but you're definitely the first person that has lasted this long, especially with the shit you've pulled."

I smirk. "I'm special."

"You're an idiot," Iori snaps.

"Oh, come on." I watch as Ichijouji turns a page in his book and takes a large bite of his crisp apple, and juice dribbles down his chin before he pats it dry with a napkin. "I think he likes me."

"You know," Takeru says, his seriousness catching my attention, "Harada-san's last roommate thought Ichijouji liked him too."

I raise an eyebrow.

"They were an item for a while—well, more accurately, Ichijouji used poor Takagi-kun for sex when he wanted it and ignored him when it was convenient. And when Takagi-kun got too tired of being pushed around and broke things off, he suddenly lost all his financial aid and was forced to leave the academy."

Okay, that makes me pause. "Wait, Ichijouji got him kicked out of the academy because he stopped fucking him?"

"It's not the only time that's happened," Iori adds. "You should know, before you get too involved, the people who don't do what Ichijouji wants them to have a tendency to leave prematurely."

"No signs that anyone's died yet, though." Takeru sighs—he sounds disappointed by that—then focuses his eyes on me. "I'm pretty sure you're already in too deep, Daisuke-kun."

I frown. "What makes you say that?"

He inclines his head toward the center table. "Ichijouji gave the all-clear."

I cock an eyebrow.

"That's what we call it when he tells everyone to clear off. Everyone knows you're off limits."

"I'm _what_?" I snarl, my hand balling up into a fist atop the table.

Takeru laughs. "Ichijouji spread the word that you're his. He wants you. I thought you'd be happy."

My eyes narrow at the center table. "I'd be a hell of a lot happier if I had a say in the matter."

Iori scoffs. "Says the person who groped him in the middle of the dormitory hallway in front of at least a dozen other guys."

"You said I'm his," I say, trying to keep my voice even. "What exactly does that mean?"

Takeru shrugs. "Try to bed anybody in here"—he motions around the large cafeteria—"and you'll find out."

I shoot a scowl at him, at both of their smug faces. "So no one will touch me with a ten-foot pole?"

"Basically, yeah."

The chair squeals when I scoot it backward enough to get a good look at Ichijouji halfway across the room, arms crossed over my chest. "Well, then." But I laugh. "I guess my parents were right about this place."

"Your parents?" Takeru asks.

"They said Tamachi Academy would change me." I snort. "I doubt _this_ is what they had in mind. I mean, yeah, they wanted me to stop dicking around, but… " At their curious faces, I add, "I may have had a bet with a guy at my last school, a bet I may have won by sleeping with the headmaster's daughter, a fact which may have gotten out when she assumed we were dating and saw me with her brother."

He laughs, but this time, Takeru pinches the bridge of his nose. "Okay, Daisuke-kun, you _are_ trouble."

I incline my head in recognition. "Well, can't exactly catch me giving some random guy a blowjob if no guy will touch me for fear of Ichijouji's wrath."

As if he heard his voice—which frankly isn't possible with how far away we are—Ichijouji lifts his head and locks eyes with me. There's no heat or even a hint of attraction in those blue-violet orbs, but I hold his gaze long enough for him to shiver and look back at that damn book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daisuke is finally learning exactly what sort of trouble he's gotten himself into...
> 
> The next chapter may take a little longer because it's only partially written and I'm doing this crazy 365-day challenge thing where I write a one-shot a day for all of 2020.
> 
> Anyway, keep an eye out. :)


End file.
